


turn towards me, I'm lonely too

by Pigfarts23



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Inspired by Fanart, LOOK I'M ALIVE, M/M, Romantic Comedy, according to my beta this is a rom com, apparently chris and phichit are real characters now, like what, listen I started this at midnight and took me 6 months to get here okay, viktuuri, why aren't i sleeping, wow I can't believe yuri plisetsky's cat has a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigfarts23/pseuds/Pigfarts23
Summary: AU where five time World Champion Viktor Nikiforov pretends to not know how to skate just so he can get lessons from the cute, oblivious skating teacher at the rink, Katsuki Yuuri.(Oh, and he coaches.)





	1. I see you, lonely darling

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by aina-p's [amazing image](http://aina-p.tumblr.com/post/154387195914/aina-p-au-where-upcoming-world-champion-viktor)!! Go check them out they're fabulous!! (And super sweet!!)
> 
> Title taken from _My Neighbours the Yamadas_ , which, in turn, took it from Basho's Haiku of the same name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Natalie Wee's [ Never Been Kissed ](https://therisingphoenixreview.com/2015/12/12/never-been-kissed-by-natalie-wee/)

In hindsight, the day Viktor Nikiforov is asked to moved out of Russia to coach Yuri Plisetsky is the day Viktor realises he is never going to understand how teenagers work.  
  
But hindsight is 20/20, as they say.  
  
He’s known Yuri for a few years now, and he still doesn’t understand how that boy’s mind operates.  
  
Viktor promised he’d coach Yuri after he’d won five World Championships and Yuri won the Junior Grand Prix. With those requirements filled, Yuri had slouched up to him and said, “We’re moving.”  
  
Viktor, for the life of him, can’t figure out why they _don’t just stay in Russia._ Where they _already have a rink._ _  
_ _  
_ Yuri just looks at him like he’s stupid and slouches away.  
  
_Probably to pack,_ Viktor thinks.  
  
Next, he had _specifically_ requested that Yuri pick a place relatively close to the rink - so they don’t have to go too far to get to it - but also located somewhat close to town. Yuri, being _Yuri,_ decided that they will be living one door over from the rink, which is great for Yuri because, as Viktor is so eloquently told, “That means there’s _no running to the rink every day, goddammit.”  
  
_ Being super close to the rink, however, means that they are _super far from town_. This makes Viktor incredibly annoyed; now, if he wants to drink, he’s going to have to do it in front of his student because the bars are so far away.  In retaliation, Viktor makes Yuri do the groceries, which leads to grumbling from the teen as they have no car, so if he’s sent for groceries, he either has to walk or take the bus.  
  
What Viktor is _presently_ struggling to understand is why Yuri is grumbling when it was the _teen’s_ decisions that lead to their current situation.  
  
“What do you mean by that?”  
  
“I mean, we have no food, asshole. What else would I mean by saying ‘we have no food’?” Yuri growls, flopping dramatically onto a couch cushion that had been haphazardly dumped onto the floor.  
  
Viktor faces Yuri from his spot leaning on the kitchen door frame. Or facing the general direction of where he thinks Yuri is. It’s kind of hard to see where the boy landed in the current mess that is their house, what with all the boxes scattered everywhere.  
  
That would also probably explain why they have no food.  
  
“You’re _sure_ we have no food? I thought I brought some instant food over,” Viktor muses, crossing his arms. He suspects Yuri hasn’t bothered to check any boxes and he just gave up from the exhaustion of moving in and assembling his bed, but is too stubborn to say anything about his current physical state.  
  
Yuri’s sigh is answer enough for Viktor, who gracefully starts picking his way through the incredible amount of _crap_ stacked and scattered everywhere, and slowly makes his way over.  
  
“Come. We’re going for groceries!” he says when he gets to the general area of where he remembers putting down the couch cushion that Yuri is probably sulking on.  
  
“Why do I have to go with you? Don’t you know where the store is?” Yuri whines, voice slightly muffled.  
  
_He’s probably cuddling deeper into the Team Russia sweater of his_ , Viktor thinks, amused.

“Because!” he replies sunnily. “I told you to get food while I was looking at the rink! And you didn’t!” Viktor claps his hands and starts making a shooing motion in the general area of where he thinks Yuri is. Instead of a sullen teenager, he gets an over-excited poodle leaping around his legs.  “Besides," he’s tired and hungry and _why won’t Yuri just listen to him for once_ and he tries to keep himself calm by patting Makkachin’s soft head as the poodle noses his leg. “Makkachin wants to go for a walk! Would you rather keep him company instead of shopping with me?”  
  
Another sigh reaches Viktor’s ears followed by the sound of movement, and suddenly, Yuri rises from the floor like a particularly angry cat and glares at Viktor. “Fine. I’m up, asshole. Happy?”  
  
“Thrilled! Now let’s go!” And Viktor drags Makkachin out the front door to encourage Yuri to hurry up.  
  
The evening is still warm enough that Viktor doesn’t need a sweater, the late summer sun just setting in the distance. Makkachin’s tail is wagging as fast as it can go beside him, the dog looking around and enjoying the breeze from the nearby river.  
  
When Yuri finally shows up, he’s still wearing his red, white and blue Team Russia jacket and looking unimpressed. “Let’s go,” he mutters, before taking off down the road.  
  
Viktor follows him for about a half a minute before realising Yuri’s going the wrong way.  Stopping abruptly, he watches Yuri speed off, Makkachin following for a while until he notices Viktor has stopped. After he’s reached the end of the block, Viktor calls out to Yuri’s retreating figure “Oh, Yuri! The town’s this way!”  
  
The look Yuri gives him is enough to make Viktor smile for the rest of the silent walk to the shops.

* * *

The trip to the shops turns out to be worthwhile. Viktor gets to know Yuri’s favourite foods and manages to start planning some dishes he can make that uses most of them in some kind of healthy way (pirozhki are _not_ the stuff Viktor wants Yuri eating). He gives Yuri a list of the basics he wants and vanishes to the spice aisle, which is empty except for one black-haired man.

There’s nothing spectacular about what the man is doing; he’s a young man standing in front of a selection of powders.  
  
But his movements.  
  
Oh _god.  
  
_ Viktor thinks that he’s never seen anyone make the tedious decision of selecting a spice look like an art form. Before his staring can get too creepy, Viktor forces himself to walk past the man, who’s still moving with an incredibly natural grace in the arms, and start selecting spices.  
  
Satisfied with his choices, he turns and walks out of the aisle, trying to see if he can find where Yuri wandered off to. Throughout his tour of the store, he manages to find a few more items that he figures he can eventually use. But no Yuri.  
  
With a sigh, he searches through his pocket to pull out his phone. Hopefully, this will be one of those rare times Yuri actually bothers to reply to a text. It would make Viktor’s life just a bit easier.  
  
**You:** Where are you?  
**Angry Kitten:** I paid and left because you took too long  
  
Viktor smiles and heads over to the cash, where he runs into the guy from the spice aisle. His glasses magnify his beautiful brown eyes slightly, and Viktor’s heart _definitely does not_ give a slight skip at the friendly smile the guy flashes at the cashier before collecting his groceries and leaving.  
  
When he finally leaves the store, Viktor is greeted by a “glad to see you didn’t get lost” from Yuri.  
  
“I missed you too, kitten, don’t worry.” He ruffles Yuri’s hair, getting an angry “What the hell!?!” from the teen before he turns to the poodle sitting at Yuri’s feet and crouches to rub Makkachin’s head. “And I missed you even more, Makkachin!” he exclaims, before burying his face in his soft fur.

“Ugh. Why are all dog owners like _that_ ?” He hears Yuri mutter from above him as he straightens up. Choosing to ignore the comment, Viktor turns to Yuri and gestures to the bags strewn around their feet.  
  
“You take the groceries. I’ll take Makkachin.”  
  
“Why do I have to take them?”  
  
“You’re younger,” Viktor replies, heading back to the street. “And besides, lifting these will help you keep your strength up for training. After all,” he pauses, turning to face Yuri, who has picked up the heavy bags and is now trailing after Viktor like a sad dog, “don’t you want to win your Senior Debut?”  
  
Yuri’s glare is enough of an answer.  
  
“Good! Start by carrying those bags back then,” says Viktor. He strides up the street, feeling the wind gently tease his hair as the last of dusk slowly sinks towards the horizon.

The entire walk back to the house is silent, similar to how the walk to the store was. As they head home, Viktor lets his mind wander to Yuri’s programs and how he’s going to make this boy win. He’s been Yuri’s rink mate for a few years now and knows he has incredible potential and the drive and determination to win. With the added quads to his repertoire this year, Viktor knows that Yuri’s win will come from the execution of a difficult program.  
  
They arrive back at the house just as ink starts to creep across the sunset sky, chasing away the warm orange colour with a summer breeze.  
  
“We should open the windows, let the house air out for a bit,” Viktor muses as he shuts the door behind them and Makkachin, excited about being back, sets off across the room, weaving amongst the pile of boxes scattered across the living room.  
  
“Or how about you make dinner and then I go sleep after taking a nice bath?” Yuri snaps back from the kitchen, angrily rustling the bags as he takes out the groceries.  
  
_At least he’s putting the groceries away,_ Viktor observes.  
  
“Open the windows, Yuri. And did you grab cat and dog food?”  
  
Yuri’s eyeroll can be heard by Viktor, who’s making his way towards the kitchen to start rustling up some dinner.  
  
“ _Yes_. I can follow simple directions.”  
  
“Good! Prove it to me by opening up the windows and feeding Makkachin and your cat,” Viktor replies, shooing him out of the kitchen with a sunny smile so that dinner can be made before they both pass out from malnourishment and exhaustion.  
  
A few minutes later, as Viktor is preparing some borscht with some slices of fresh bread, he feels a cool breeze race through the house and knows that Yuri’s finally got the windows open. The song of crickets fills the mostly silent house, and Viktor feels slightly warm despite the late hour and cool temperature.  
  
“Dinner!” he singsongs when the soup is finally prepared. Yuri is in the kitchen half a beat later, looking as eager as he ever lets himself look. Half a second later, he’s frowning as he glances around the kitchen.  
  
“..Do you expect me to eat on the floor? And share with you?”  
  
Viktor hesitates for a moment, letting a smile slowly grow on his face as he wracks his brain for an answer.  
  
_Come on, Viktor, think!_ he panics internally, _what would be a good excuse for not eating out of an actual bowl - oh. Okay!  
  
_ “We’re eating out of the same pot! It’s important for a coach to know your eating habits and how you eat soup. It also helps _bond!_ And a stronger bond between coach and skater means you’re more likely to win!” Viktor smiles brightly at Yuri and offers him the first bite. After all, that’s the right thing to do when sharing a pot of soup - let the one who didn’t make it eat it first.  
  
He might have been raised unconventionally, but let it be known that Viktor Nikiforov’s parents made sure that he at least had _manners_ (and even that is still up for debate within his family, last he heard. Which was about ten or so years ago).  
  
Yuri looks at Viktor like he has suddenly sprouted three heads. “I’m not sharing with you. I’d rather starve than eat out of a _pot_ with an old man like you.”  
  
Viktor looks at him for a moment and then shrugs. “Your loss. But don’t blame me if you don’t win.” He’s about to take a spoon of soup when the pot is ripped from his hand.  
  
“Fine. Give me that.”  
  
Yuri starts angrily eating the soup as if it has done him a personal wrong. Since there are no chairs (yet), they sit on the floor, cross legged, facing each other. Viktor sits and watches Yuri aggressively inhale the food, mind churning on how to create Yuri’s winning program.  
  
He breaks the silence by asking if Yuri has managed to feed their pets. When Yuri gives no outward reaction, Viktor assumes he has and they fall back into silence.

A few minutes later, Yuri hands Viktor the half eaten soup with a gruff, “Here. I’m going to take a bath and sleep.”  
  
“Good night, kitten! Sleep well!”  
  
“At least I don’t have to worry about my back giving out from sleeping on the floor, old man,” comes the expected snarky reply before Yuri leaves Viktor sitting on the floor of the kitchen, eating soup out of a pot.  
  
There’s a light padding of feet as Yuri grumbles his way through the mess in the living room and then Viktor hears the bathroom door slam shut and a pitiful _mrow._ The house falls silent almost immediately, save for the gentle gust that wafts through every so often and the song of crickets outside.

* * *

The next morning, after Viktor hauls Yuri out for a run, he and Yuri walk over to the ice rink, Makkachin happily trotting behind them. They’re at the rink in moments, and when they finally walk into the main lobby after fighting the hoards of fans there to try and see JJ train, the same man who was at the rink yesterday greets them from behind the desk.  
  
“Good morning!” Viktor says, and the man - Takeshi? - evidently remembers him from yesterday’s conversation about using the rink to practice since he greets Viktor by name and pulls out a folder labelled “Viktor Nikiforov,” handing it over so Viktor can sign the papers inside.  
  
“I talked with J.J. Leroy about sharing the rink. He agreed but asks that you don’t bring anyone who isn’t necessary for practices to the rink. He’s very picky about who he lets see his practice.”  
  
“Of course! Wouldn’t want to reveal the secret of his programs before the competitions, right?” Viktor says with a wink, signing his name with a flourish and handing over the folder back to the man - Takeshi, he thinks, he’s _sure_ of it - who hands over a binder.  
  
“Please sign in every day you come. We’re not always sitting here, but the binder always will be.”  
  
Viktor picks up the pen and signs ‘Vitya  <3’ under what looks like a messily scrawled ‘King JJ’ with a crown doodle next to it. He hands the pen over to Yuri, who signs what is probably ‘Yuri P’ but looks more like a badly written ‘Yurt’.  
  
“Great! Thank you! Skate well!” Takeshi says, waving them off.  
  
Viktor herds Yuri towards the change rooms with a light touch, saying, “You’ll be doing basic training for today!”  
  
“BASIC TRAINING?!? YOU MEAN I’M NOT GETTING ON THE ICE TODAY?”  
  
“You are, kitten, don’t worry. You’ll be on the ice later on in the day after basic training! It’s good to refresh your muscles with basic training after not doing it for a while - it gives them a chance to remember how strong they are, which will help you win the Grand Prix Final!” Viktor pats Yuri on the shoulder before sending him to the training room.  
  
When Viktor gets his skates on and steps out onto the ice, JJ is already on, clearly having been on long enough to cover the ice in criss crosses from his warm ups. His coaches aren’t paying attention to him at the moment, heads bent close together as they discuss something.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t Viktor Nikiforov himself! Fancy seeing you in these parts, eh? And as a coach too, to boot!” JJ calls, catching sight of Viktor and skating over.  
  
Viktor smiles and meets JJ. “Thought it would be nice for a change of scene.”  
  
JJ gives his patented fake laugh. He opens his mouth to continue, but is cut off by a sharp “JJ!” from across the ice.  
  
“Well, that’s me. Good to see you again, Vik. But it’d’ve been better to see you in competition.” And with a wink, he skates off.  
  
Viktor stares after him for a second before pulling out his phone and headphones. Before leaving for the day, he had created a playlist of possible songs that might work for Yuri’s programs. Yuri prefers songs that are fast and full of very obvious passion, flaring up quickly and brightly, much like Yuri himself. The best way to keep the audience on its toes - _and_ help Yuri branch out to all styles of music - is to go in the completely opposite direction.   
  
The first song, [ _Eternity_ ](https://youtu.be/nOcrCRnH_qQ?t=9s), starts off with quiet piano, which continues for about a count of eight before opening up with the main vocal theme. Immediately, Viktor feels a calm peace drift over him as he skates around, reacquainting himself with the feeling of the song. As the song proceeds, Viktor begins to realise that this will be a perfect challenge for Yuri, as this piece requires a much more delicate approach than the world is used to seeing from him. He skates to a stop as the piece finishes, having a rough idea of where the music softly asks for a jump. Then he runs through the rough choreography, managing to time the jumps perfectly and flawlessly.  
  
“Yo, Vik! Looks like you’ve still got it, eh? Those jumps were flawless!” JJ calls from across the rink, where it looks like he was watching Viktor’s little impromptu performance.  
  
He nods as he skates off to the side to take a bit of a breather to record his thoughts and the order of the jumps he’s come up with. When that’s done, he takes a some time to watch JJ run through some of his stuff.  
  
_He’s not too bad_ , Viktor thinks. He’s slightly sloppy going into his jumps, but the sloppiness will be fixed as he learns the jump order.  
  
JJ launches into a quad Salchow next as Viktor stands and watches. He lands it a bit roughly, having over rotated, and has to touch the ice to stop himself from falling, but overall it’s a good jump. After watching JJ do one more jump, he puts on the next song, _[Elegy for the Arctic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOA8bzpW7FU).  
_  
The music starts off with a haunting low note and slow moving eighth notes that gradually melts into runs. It’s different from the last piece, which was calm, almost lullaby like; here, there’s a slow moving feeling of anger, passion, and helplessness, sprinkled with a touch of hope that Viktor hopes Yuri will pick up on and turn into an incredible work of art that simmers with overflowing emotion, rather than boiling with it.  
  
Once again, he twirls to a stop with the end of the song. He’s exhausted; his chest is heaving and a fine layer of sweat covers his body. As the next song starts playing softly, he hears faint applause from the other end of the rink. Startled, he takes his earphones out and blinks for a second before realising it’s JJ and his coaches. Immediately, he puts on his press smile and gives a bit of a wave.  
  
“That was good, Vik! But JJ’s style is better!” JJ gloats from the other side of the ice. He’s reprimanded with a smack upside the head from the female coach - Viktor believes it might be his mother, if he remembers what he heard in interviews correctly - and he turns to face the pair of coaches to whine.  
  
Viktor smiles and skates back over to the side to write down the rough idea of this piece and get some water. He knows he needs at least a half hour to get back most of his energy in order to go over both of these pieces one more time before he can bring Yuri in. He could stay and watch JJ – they’re all going to be at the same rink, so it’s inevitable that they’re going to see each other’s programs before competitions – or he could go and annoy Yuri. Viktor’s tempted – _extremely_ tempted – to just sit on this bench, no matter how hard and uncomfortable it might be, just so he doesn’t have to move.  
  
God, he’s gotten old.  
  
Instead, he drinks some more water and then takes a deep breath, forcing his still-cooling-muscles to work again as he stands, and heads off to the training area.  
  
When he gets there, Viktor is not shocked to see Yuri’s headphones covering his ears as he runs through the basic training routine. Viktor thinks he must be on his second run of the routine, which is perfect, timewise, for Viktor to recover his strength before calling Yuri in to see the choreography. As he waits for a pause from Yuri, he hears some commotion coming from the rink area, where JJ is still practicing. A moment later, a male singer’s voice fills the rink, faintly carrying over to the training room where Viktor can hear it. It’s soon supported with keyboard, piano, and strings before fading to a series of piano chords that are then joined by the strings, guitar, drums, and the vocals once more.  
  
_Oh, he’s already going to start putting the program together?_ Viktor thinks, crossing his arms in front of him.   
  
Looking at where Yuri is still doing sit ups, Viktor’s eye is caught on the bag Yuri brought in, which contains his skates and the Team Russia jacket that the boy loves but will never admit to folded nicely next to it. But beside that, Viktor sees a water bottle with "Ice Castle" on it (which he doesn’t remember seeing before) standing guard next to Yuri’s things. Before he can ask about it, Yuri stops his sit ups and takes a breather in between exercises.  
  
“Ah, Yuri,” Viktor says, “After you’re done here, come join me out on the ice.”  
  
He gets no reply.  
  
_Teenagers and their loud music_ , he thinks.  
  
“Yuri!!!!” Viktor calls, much louder than before. This seems to do the trick as Yuri looks up with a “Huh?” as he takes his headphones off. “After you finish this, come join me out on the rink.”  
  
“Finally,” Yuri grumbles. “I was starting to think you had forgotten about me back here. _Again_.”  
  
“Me? Forget about such a lovely and charming boy like yourself? Not possible!” Viktor shrugs off the harsh but subtle reminder of the time he forgot about Yuri at the airport on their flight over and turns to head out. Before leaving, he pauses, airily comments, “But I suppose I could be tempted to forget about that boy if he doesn’t want to win!” and then continues out the door.  
  
Yuri’s responding snarl gives him enough to smile about.  
  
After skating through the first program again, he takes a breather as he stands by the edge of the rink. JJ is off at the moment, taking a break, so he pushes off towards where the sound system is so he can hook up his phone. Letting his eyes wander across the ice, he spots a black-haired man talking to JJ about something. He’s wearing the Ice Castle Employee shirt, which has the same logo on the back that was on the water bottle found next to Yuri’s belongings, and… there’s something about him that feels familiar, like Viktor has seen him before.  
  
Shrugging, he pushes the thought from his mind and gets the system set to go. Pressing play, he skates to the middle of the rink and glides across the ice, reviewing the order of the jumps in his head and the approximate area where he wanted them. He skates through the first song, that peaceful song, so subtle with its desire and yet so hauntingly beautiful.  
  
With the vocals tumbling over themselves and building and growing and changing and pushing Viktor to the end, he skates to a stop when the music slows down, so gradually, as the vocals fade out. He is back where he started, hands extended, to create a long line with his body as the same music starts up again.  
  
_It’s good. Yuri can grow this so much,_ he thinks, panting, as he brings his arm down and skates over to turn off the still looping music before gliding over to get some water. As he’s taking a breather, he reviews the next piece’s rough choreography before skating back over to the sound system and starting the process all over again.  
  
When he turns the music off this time, Viktor puts the two pieces in a playlist and takes the remote with him. He’s still winded as he glides across the ice, heading back to where his water is located.  
  
“Ah Yuri!” he greets when he spots him. He must have shown up while Viktor was skating.  
  
Yuri sits up as he finishes tying the knot on his laces; he completes his impatient scowl with his skates on and an eager look in his eyes.  
  
“Do two laps of stroking and two of crossovers, one lap forwards and one lap backwards of each and then I’ll give you the music and the choreography.”  
  
Yuri looks at Viktor like he’s lost his mind. “Crossovers? I’m not a _junior,_ old man. I don’t _need_ to do crossovers.”  
  
Viktor merely arches an eyebrow, issuing a silent challenge. Yuri huffs and takes off.

* * *

Yuri, naturally, _hates_ the music. 

Viktor can tell this based on the “ _WHAT?!?_ WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WHO WANTS TO SKATE TO THIS OLD STUFF?!” that gets screamed in his face by the boy.  
  
Viktor simply smiles and says, “The winner of the Grand Prix Final does.” It’s unclear, even to himself, if he’s talking about himself as the current winner of the Grand Prix, or if he’s talking about Yuri being the next winner. But Yuri clearly wants to show that he knows what Viktor’s talking about, even if a confused look flashes across his eyes, so he doesn’t push the matter further.  
  
After Yuri skates through the routines once (falling would probably be a better word for what actually happened, but Viktor knows this is just the first skate through and isn’t worried), with JJ cheering obnoxiously in the corner, Viktor knows the programs are perfect. All he has to do now is time it so Yuri can peak in the Worlds, while also winning the Grand Prix, and he’s done his job.  
  
“Ok, Yura! You’re done for the day,” Viktor calls. Yuri grabs Viktor’s phone from where it has been attached to the sound system this entire time, and gets off the ice.  
  
A moment after Yuri has joined Viktor on the bench and started undoing his skates, the same music from before filters over the speakers. Viktor doesn’t have to be rinkside to know that JJ is starting his skate through again.  
  
When Yuri is finally out of his skates and Viktor is packed up, they head toward the exit. The same employee who spoke to JJ before comes in, carrying a pair of skates in one hand while talking to someone on FaceTime, and passes them as they walk out to the lobby. Viktor actually does a double take because _holy shit_ it’s the same guy from yesterday night at the store. He feels his heart skip a beat again when he realises it, and oh God is he having a heart attack (he can’t be, he’s too young!) because there is _no_ reason _whatsoever_ for his heart to skip beats.  
  
“Yuri, you go ahead and start prepping tonight’s meal. Make sure you make extras for tomorrow’s lunch,” Viktor says, abruptly stopping and starting to turn back to the rink.  
  
“ _What?_ Why do I have to start? What are you doing?” Yuri demands.  
  
Viktor pauses and looks over his left shoulder. “I think I forgot something. I’ll be home in five minutes.”  
  
Yuri grumbles under his breath - Viktor catches words like “dramatic”, “annoying”, “do everything” - before he turns back and keeps walking out the doors.  
  
Once he’s sure Yuri is gone, Viktor takes a steadying breath and walks back into the rink. JJ is just getting off the ice as the mysterious employee starts warming up, doing a couple of laps around the rink. Viktor walks back to the bench where he and Yuri had piled their bags and takes a look around. Seeing nothing, which was to be expected, he hikes his bag up higher on his shoulder and retraces his steps.   
  
“Hey, Vik!” JJ calls out to him as Viktor meets up with JJ and his coaches, “Interesting music choices.”  
  
“Bye, Yuuri! Thank you again!” JJ’s mother calls out from behind JJ, effectively cutting off Viktor’s reply, and waves frantically to the man on the ice - _Yuuri_ \- before poking JJ, who’s forced to call out good night as well. Yuuri, who has migrated over to the sound system and has just taken his glasses off - Viktor’s heart stutters to a stop before frantically picking back up again - waves good night.  
  
Viktor follows the Leroys, making sure he is the last person out of the rink to sneak another look at Yuuri.  
  
The man is so beautiful, Viktor might actually cry.  
  
Before he can get to such an emotional state, he forces himself to leave the rink and goes home.

Yuri is rifling through a box, trying to find something, his skating bag discarded by the door, muttering to himself as his cat - “Chubak, old man. I’ve only told you this four times. You should know it by now.”- winds around Yuri, shedding white fur all over his workout clothes.  
  
“Yuri! Are you looking for plates and cutlery?” Viktor asks, locking the door behind him. He puts his bag next to Yuri’s and leans against the wall to take his shoes off.  
  
“No,” Yuri mutters, frustration leaking into his voice. “Why is none of this shit mine?”  
  
“Well,” Viktor begins, “you _are_ looking in one of my boxes.”  
  
Yuri recoils from the box as if it burns him. “That explains all the old man stuff. Surprised there’s no back brace and cane in here.” He moves to the next box, this time making sure it’s his before he opens it.  
  
“You know, we should probably unpack this weekend. We’ll take a day and just clean,” Viktor muses, tapping his chin. “It’ll be nice to not eat out of a pot.”  
  
“Yea. It’ll be _swell_ to not have to share with a geezer.”  
  
Viktor rolls his eyes and starts moving through the room, looking for a box labelled “eating”. At least, he _thinks_ he labelled it.  
  
He hopes he did.  
  
When he finally finds the box he wanted, Yuri has already left the room to go to his bedroom. With a sigh, Viktor stands outside Yuri’s door and knocks. “Dinner’s on in 30 minutes, Yura. In the meantime, you can get the program songs from my phone if you haven’t already and start preparing for your ballet lesson tomorrow. I want you to know those songs so well you can sing them in your sleep!”  
  
There’s a muffled shout and a dull thud as something hits the wall before crashing to the floor and Viktor smiles and goes off to rummage for food.

* * *

This process continues for a few weeks; Viktor drags out a grumbling Yuri for a morning run.  
  
Viktor forces a healthy meal into Yuri before they go to the rink.  
  
Yuri skates.  
  
They half watch JJ as Viktor corrects Yuri before Viktor demonstrates.  
  
They take a snack break.

Yuri does a bit of dry land review, under Viktor's watchful eye.  
  
They take a break for lunch.  
  
After lunch, Yuri skates, they correct, Yuri skates and they review.  
  
Viktor sees Yuuri across the rink, they take another snack break, Viktor gets a “HEY ASSHOLE. I’M THE ONE YOU SHOULD BE WATCHING. NOT SOME NAMELESS EMPLOYEE!” screamed at him (in Russian) while they do more dry land training.  
  
Viktor watches Yuri before getting distracted by Yuuri, gets yelled at until it’s time to go home.  
  
Yuri listens to the program pieces again and again while Viktor makes dinner.  
  
They eat.  
  
Yuri goes to ballet lessons while Viktor keeps reviewing the notes and footage collected from the day’s practice.  
  
Viktor takes Makkachin out for a walk to pick up Yuri (“I’m not a _child,_ I don’t need to be picked up!”), and they have a quick snack before Viktor falls asleep to the sound of Yuri singing under his breath.  
  
All in all, it’s not bad; every day, Viktor gets to watch Yuri grow a bit stronger under the harsh program he’s crafted _and_ see Yuuri. Viktor wouldn’t mind having this kind of life for a bit longer.  
  
Of course, life usually has other ideas in mind.

* * *

 ~04:27~

 **You:** Chrissdf!?

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** _typing...  
_**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Isn’t it very early for you, knudel?  
****

**You:** How do U get All the pretty boySs??  
**You:** _You sent a picture_

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Who’s the pretty boy you’re after now?  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Well, I don’t send pouty pictures at 04:30

 **You:** He’s so preettty I think i’m in lobe  
**You:** *loBe  
**You:** * lov  
**You:** e

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** _typing..._

 **You:** He’s so handsomee and he can sakte and his body moves like music and Chris he’s so perfec t

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**  C’est la vie, knudel. Does he even know you?

 **You:** _typing...  
_**You:** Nop one but u knows mw e, dorogoi moy.    
**You:** ((((((((((((((((((((((())()((((((((((((()((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Well, start by introducing yourself to him.  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** No one can resist having Viktor Nikiforov courting them for very long, after all.

* * *

It changes on a Monday.  
  
Because Mondays are _shit!_ Who invented _Mondays?!_ Viktor is going to hunt them down and throttle them so they can also share in the _mind numbing,_ mother of all headaches currently _giving birth_ to a whole flock of little headaches behind his eyes, holy shit.  
  
He's spent the weekend unpacking with Yuri.  
  
Okay, well, a more accurate statement would be that _he_ had spent the weekend unpacking, while Yuri had tried to help, got annoyed when Viktor touched his stuff, and then stormed off to the rink, singing his pieces under his breath.  
  
On the bright side, now they have a table, chairs, and plates, and Viktor no longer has to deal with an aching back from sleeping on the floor.  
  
So, to celebrate, Viktor left Yuri alone for the evening, and went to a nearby bar. Nearby, of course, meant 30 minutes away on foot, because Yuri _obviously_ hates Viktor enough to make him live so far away from the good stuff.  
  
All in all, he had a pretty good night. So good, in fact, Viktor can’t remember how and when he got home.  
  
Or what happened that makes him feels like he got hit by a truck.  
  
Or why there’s someone who looks very angelic standing over him, the morning light going straight into his eyes and blinding him. The angel moves, and suddenly he’s being hit in the stomach.  
  
“Get _up,_ you old fart! If I have to run, you do too!” comes the grouchy voice of Yuri Plisetsky from the lips of the supposed angel.  
  
Well, Viktor has been mistaken before.  
  
“Ahh, stop. Okay, I’m up,” Viktor says, weakly, batting Yuri’s fists away from his stomach and sitting up.  “You go for the run. I’ll see you at the rink.” Viktor waves his arm in the general direction of where he thinks Yuri might be.  
  
There is something working out in Viktor’s favour today, since Yuri doesn’t answer and simply leaves the room. Viktor lets out a sigh before flopping out of bed and crawling on protesting limbs over to the pile of clothing he normally wears to the rink. He’s going to have a rough day today.  
  
Getting ready is… a struggle. There’s no other way to put it, even in the privacy of his own mind. He struggles to get ready, but manages, eventually, with much groaning, and then hauls himself out to the rink, after packing about 12 bottles of water.  
  
Yuri is on the ice, running through his programs and glaring at JJ whenever the other skates by, when Viktor struts through the rink door. He’s managing to stand upright and on his own, and he knows his hair probably looks bad, but he’s feeling 50% better than before, which is… an improvement.  
  
“Yuri! Try that quad flip once more! Your free leg could use a bit of work!” he calls, going over to a bench to put on his skates. Before getting on the ice, he drinks a bottle of water and then, noticing Yuri still hasn’t mastered the quad, demonstrates it.  
  
“Got it, kitten?”  
  
“That isn’t my name!” Yuri spits, skating to a stop next to Viktor.  
  
Viktor ruffles his hair, looking down at Yuri. “Shall we skate?”  
  
Yuri looks back blankly. “We are.”  
  
“No, Yura! Let’s skate through it _together_.”  
  
Yuri rolls his eyes but acquiesces with a nod.   
  
By the time the day has wrapped up, Yuri has managed to skate through his short program without messing up any of the elements.

“Your entry could use a little work, and you could be more graceful and flowy. I’m going to talk to Lilia about working on your flexibility, your free leg, and arm movements more. Don’t look at me like that, kitten. We need to work on timing your peak,” Viktor says, trying to usher Yuri off the ice before remembering his phone and skating back to get it.  
  
“See you guys tomorrow, eh?” JJ calls, pausing at the side of the ice. “And, Yuri, good job actually being on your feet today.” With a hearty laugh, JJ steps off the ice, heading to the change rooms, leaving Yuri doing a bad impression of a spitting kitten behind for Viktor to deal with.  
  
Viktor laughs at Yuri’s expression, which, in less than the blink of an eye, has turned from spitting fury to dark clouds on a stormy day and is visible from Viktor’s position near the sound system. When Yuri’s glare hits Viktor, he sends a grumbling Yuri off to the shops with a cheerful wave.  
  
By the time Viktor has cooled off, Yuri has just left, leaving a pile of garbage from today’s lunch behind, next to Viktor’s stuff. Which is fine, Viktor’s perfectly okay with picking up after Yuri; it’s not like he gets paid to keep an eye on the smartass.

So anyway, Viktor’s walking towards the rink doors, heading home, and he’s fine, and, more importantly, _he’s still upright_ until -  
  
Suddenly he isn’t.  
  
And there’s a vocal stream of chatter right next to his ear.  
  
It’s hitting him so fast he can’t process the individual words, just sounds, and it’s so overwhelming and just noise and it’s speeding up and he can’t keep up and his brain is struggling and -  
  
“-you okay?”  
  
Viktor blinks up at another angelic figure hovering over him, the bright lights of the skating rink hurting his poor eyes again, and then suddenly the figure’s shadow falls over Viktor’s face and he’s looking right up into the eyes of… the man from the store. The employee.  
  
_Yuuri,_ his brain helpfully reminds him.  
  
Blearily, Viktor pushes himself up, “Yes, I - ”  
  
And they crash heads.  
  
“Ow!”  
  
“I’m so sorry - ”  
  
“No, that was totally my fault; I-I-I don’t have my glasses on and I should _know_ not to take them off until I’m on the ice but Mr. Leroy has just - ”  Yuuri cuts himself off with startled gasp as he clambers to his feet before continuing, frantically, “Mr. Leroy was just in here! Did he see you?”  
  
Yuuri’s voice fades out again as Viktor finally manages to sit up all the way. He rubs the back of his head, looking up at the current cause of the new batch of baby headaches being birthed, and the only stream of thought going through his head is “ _Yuuri is talking to me!”_ on loop, over and over and over.  
  
It’s an interesting feeling, one Viktor’s never felt before - that feeling when the brain just gets tunnel vision on an idea, and a phrase just keeps circling around and around like a song where only one line of the lyrics is known, and the rest of the world is cut out.  
  
He doesn’t know how long he sits there, listening to this idea run around his brain like a deranged hamster on a wheel, but suddenly, he registers a lack of sound and blinks, looking back up into Yuuri’s face. 

“Oh... uh. No, I don’t.” It’s a half hearted reply, but Viktor is too busy trying to figure out how to react to the fact that the beautiful person who he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last three weeks is _actually_ talking to him to pay attention to what he’s saying.  
  
“Well, if you want to start learning, we offer beginner skating lessons. You should come back when the rink is open for them!” Yuuri comments.  
  
_Shit,_ Viktor thinks, _what did I just get myself into?  
  
_ Yuuri doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong with Viktor, who’s _still_ sitting on the ground, skating bag abandoned, and keeps chattering on. “Well, if you go to the front desk, you can talk to Takeshi, who’s probably still there, and he can get you all the information you need about lessons. Oh! And about our skate rental program. I’m sorry, but I have to start preparing for tonight’s lesson so - ”  
  
“Of course! I’m terribly sorry about all this,” Viktor says, finally pulling himself together.

He’s about to clamber to his feet when a hand is thrust in front of his face. Instinctively, he reaches out, grasping the proffered forearm and grabbing his bag as he stands.

 _I’m never washing this jacket again,_ Viktor thinks, marvelling at the spot which Yuuri has just released from his grasp, feeling as if the white space on the sleeve has a permanent outline of Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri squints at Viktor, very adorably, before saying, “Have we met?”  
  
_Not officially,_  Viktor thinks.

“I don’t think so. I’m-”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m... mistaken. I’m not wearing my glasses and I can’t see very well without them, ha ha...” Yuuri laughs weakly, putting on fingerless gloves. “Anyway, just talk to Takeshi. We’ll be more than happy to have you join us!”  
  
He extends his hand to Viktor, who takes it. Yuuri’s glove feels soft against his fingers, and his fingertips are cool against his palm.  
  
“Thank you! I look forward to it!”  
  
Yuuri removes his hand from the grip, and Viktor finds himself grasping for something that isn’t there and that will probably never be there again. Seeing his hand flounder, he quickly brings it back to his bag strap.  
  
_I’m never washing this hand again either,_ he thinks. Not the healthiest of moves, but _Yuuri just touched_ _his hand._  
  
“Have a good night, sir, and I hope to see you join Ice Castle’s Skating program!” Yuuri chirps, waving before turning and stepping onto the ice.  
  
Viktor, in a daze, goes out to the front desk, where he finds himself enrolling in _private beginner lessons_ with Yuuri, to the obvious surprise of Takeshi.  
  
When he finally manages to stumble home, he’s greeted by Makkachin, who weaves between his legs as he tries to make his way to his room. Yuri isn’t in yet - probably still in town, getting food for the week.  
  
“Oh, Makkachin!” Viktor gushes. He’s being super dramatic, he knows, but _Yuuri is so beautiful,_ he feels like it’s deserved drama.  
  
Makkachin flops on the bed beside him, snuffling under Viktor’s arm before moving and lying on top of Viktor instead, who exhales a gust of air as the dog’s weight settles on him completely. He buries his hand in the fluffy fur.  
  
“He’s so _wonderful_ and kind! And the way his body moves on the ice! It’s like he’s making music.” Viktor sighs and falls still, mind on nothing but Yuuri’s movements on the ice.  
  
And maybe a few thoughts about those movements in a bed with Viktor slip in.  
  
Viktor is still lying on the bed in the same position when he hears the door open. Makkachin, possessing that sixth sense that all dogs seem to have when it comes to whether or not someone is at the door, has gone to greet the person, who is probably Yuri getting back from the trip to town.  
  
“OI! VIKTOR!” Yuri shouts. It sounds like he’s in the kitchen, as the yell is followed by the sound of things slamming shut and the fridge being yanked open roughly. A few minutes later, there’s a shadow falling over Viktor. “Get up and make dinner, asshole. I schlepped all over town to get this food, I’m not fucking making it.”  
  
“But Yuri! He’s so _beautiful_!” Viktor gushes. He turns his head to look up at Yuri, mustering up the most heartfelt sad look he can, trying to gain sympathy for his cause.  
  
“Who?”   
  
“The gorgeous Ice Castle employee! The one with the pretty eyes! And the beautiful, soft looking hair!”  
  
“Who?” Yuri asks again, impatience leaking into his voice.  
  
“His name is Yuuri, too! What a strange coincidence!” Viktor muses with a sigh. “He’s more beautiful up close than I could have ever imagined.”   
  
Yuri rolls his eyes and starts to walk out of the room. “Whatever. I’m going to go study the music again.”  
  
“But Yuri!” Viktor exudes, stopping Yuri in his tracks. How can he even think about something as plebeian as _food_ and  _music_ at a time like this? “The _skin_ of his hand touched _my_ jacket! I’m never washing this jacket again!”  
  
There is a violent shudder before Yuri turns back to face Viktor. “You’re disgusting.”  
  
Viktor is unable to do anything but smile a huge heart-shaped smile in response. His mother, back when he was young, often commented that his smiles had so much love that in order to fully express it, his mouth had to become heart shaped to help get the feeling across.  
  
Yuri clearly doesn’t agree with this idea as he rolls his eyes before moving towards the door.  
  
Viktor turns to Makkachin, who padded in with Yuri. “Oh, Makkachin, you understand, don’t you?”  
  
“You’re pathetic!” Yuri throws over his shoulder, punctuating the sentence with a slam of the bedroom door as the poodle barks once, tail wagging furiously on the floor as if trying to polish it.  
  
“You’re right. I should go before Yuratchka dies of starvation.”  
  
With a sigh, he hauls himself to his feet, crawling out of the nest of bedding he made in his dramatic state, and heads out to make dinner for his starving student.

* * *

About two hours later, after Viktor struggled to try and find _something_ to mix together with the meagre offerings Yuri picked up at the store and after eating said dinner, Viktor tells Yuri that he’s staying at the rink later tomorrow. He doesn’t mean to let it be known _why_ he’s staying at the rink later, but it somehow comes out that he’s taking beginner lessons with Yuuri.  
  
Yuri, unsurprisingly, doesn’t take the news well.  
  
He throws what essentially can be considered a tantrum, spewing verbal profanities, insulting Viktor, slamming doors, and making some very harsh yet truthful observations about Viktor’s coaching abilities.  
  
Viktor knows all the words flung at him are supposed to push his buttons and make him hurt, which Yuri never usually manages to do, but this time, the boy makes several good points. As much as Viktor would like to brush off all the comments - he knows that Yuri will be _fine_ because, well, he’s got enough drive and determination to fit into two people and _still_ have enough left over for himself - he knows Yuri has a point.  
  
It’s the end of June, which explains Yuri’s restlessness; the Grand Prix assignments will be released any day now, and he’s so desperate to win that he’s started getting up earlier for his runs and meeting Viktor at the rink in order to squeeze in more practice time. Viktor hears Yuri singing the pieces all the time now, and he’s sure that Lilia, who Yuri has been with for about a month, is ready to scream if she has to listen to the pieces one more time.  
  
(He knows he is.)  
  
Even though _Viktor_ might not be worried about Yuri’s performance, half the battle with figure skating is being confident in _yourself_. If Yuri feels that he needs more from Viktor, Viktor, as his coach, should step up and help his student by providing extra training and support.

* * *

The next morning, Viktor goes down to the rink with Yuri as Makkachin bounces around their feet, thrilled at being taken out for a second walk. When they sign in, JJ has clearly already gotten in, as there’s his usual sign in of “King JJ” next to a doodle of a little crown above Viktor’s line - however, when they walk into the rink, there’s no sign of the other skater.  
  
“Go and get ready, Yuri. We’re starting with a quad review and then we’re launching into your programs!” Viktor sends Yuri off to the changing room with Makkachin as he goes to the rinkside benches.  
  
A figure dressed in practice gear whirls around the ice, so totally lost in the movements and choreography while creating music where there is none. As Viktor gets closer, he realises that it’s Yuuri.  
  
He really should have known when he started feeling the nonexistent music.  
  
Completely enthralled, he realises he doesn’t want to ruin this silent spell that Yuuri’s casting over him, so he slowly approaches the side.  
  
Yuuri skates across the ice so fluidly it’s like he’s become part of the air around him. He skates from an outside spread eagle before launching himself into a triple axel, and the entire jump is performed so effortlessly that it feels almost logical that the axel turns into a combination with a double loop.  
  
He doesn’t know how long he stands there in silence, watching Yuuri; all Viktor knows is that he somehow has to convince this man to skate competitively. There is a _need_ in him to see Yuuri in full costume with a cheering crowd supporting him that Viktor wants realised, and -  
  
“SO, THE PUNK’S IN A GOOD MOOD TODAY, EH?” Comes the booming greeting, echoing across the ice and bouncing off the rink walls.  
  
He’s startled into turning around at that exclamation, which announces JJ’s arrival, similar to the way a fanfare introduces a king. JJ waltzes into the rink with his skates on, his coaches trailing behind him.  
  
Viktor has never wanted to punch someone more in his life than he wants to punch Jean-Jacques Leroy in this instant.

“Good morning, JJ,” Viktor greets flatly when JJ comes to a stop in front of him.  
  
“Good to see you again!” JJ says, stepping closer and getting into Viktor’s space. “I have to say, I’m impressed with what you’ve done with that punk’s form. He’s coming along!”  
  
Viktor refuses to show any emotion in the bland smile he presents to JJ. “Thank you, JJ, that -”  
  
“Of course, he’s nowhere as good as I am! Nothing beats JJ Style, after all,” he crows, his fingers digging into Viktor’s shoulder with impressive strength. “Right, well. I’d best be off, eh? Long day. Lots of practicing.” With another squeeze of his fingers, he releases Viktor’s shoulder and heads off, leaving Viktor blankly staring after him.

By the time Viktor remembers to turn around, the ice is empty.

* * *

“One more time, Yuri!” Viktor calls, neatly skating out of the way of the incoming JJ. “Don’t let the falls distract you; remember, it’s not how you land the easy jumps, it’s how you get yourself out of a bad hole! The judges don’t care that you can’t land a quad toe every time - they care about the fact that when you don’t land that quad toe, you don’t let it distract you and pull you out of the focused headspace.”  
  
Yuri abruptly skates over to Viktor and snowplows to a stop in front of him, spraying snow everywhere. “Since when were you such a model coach? Don’t tell me that stupid employee you’re gone on is watching." He looks around suspiciously before adding, "It's the only reason I can think of as to why you'd be such a model coach."

Viktor looks back at the scowling face calmly. “One more time, Yuri. And watch that free leg!”  
  
Yuri huffs before resuming the trouble spot he’s currently working through. It’s a quad salchow triple axel combination, something he’s done before, but seems to be having a bit of a mental block with today.  
  
It happens sometimes. Viktor’s not worried. He knows Yuri will be nailing it tomorrow.  
  
Yuri, however, doesn’t seem to know this and continues to stress out about not landing the combination. Which only increases his frustration at not landing it, which makes him not land it even more… it’s a vicious cycle, one that Viktor is intimately familiar with.  
  
Viktor watches, arms crossed and pointer finger tapping his chin in time to the short program music, as Yuri sets up for the combination. It’s not playing over any sound system, but he knows it as well as Yuri does after listening to it for a month.  
  
Right on beat, Yuri launches himself into the air, rotating once, twice, three times, four times before reconnecting with the ice. He barely touches the ice before he’s off again, doing a half rotation and skating into the triple axel with all the force of a blizzard. He rotates, once, twice, three times, three and a half, before he crashes to the ice, stepping out of the landing.  
  
It’s absolutely incredible for Viktor to watch, because Yuri makes no verbal noises of frustration. He just makes a disappointed face and glides over to Viktor, who dismisses him for the day.  
  
“Tell Lilia that you need to work on your jumping.” Viktor instructs, skating off the ice with Yuri, who is currently giving off dejected vibes.  
  
“Fine. Whatever,” he snaps, stepping off the ice to dry his skates using a towel Viktor so generously hands him.  
  
The walk back to the house is silent, save for Makkachin’s excited panting and the evening’s serenade of crickets and wind. When they walk back in, Makkachin immediately takes off across the living room, making a beeline for Chubak, who hisses before darting away and jumping nimbly onto the couch, his white tail curling around himself. Yuri dumps his bag in its usual spot by the door and collapses dramatically on the couch.   
  
Viktor takes things a bit slower. He pauses at the door and balances against the wall, sliding his shoes off, before making his way into the kitchen and rummaging up chicken and potatoes with a side green salad.    
  
“Yuri,” he says, later, putting down a steaming plate of food on the table.  
  
Yuri looks up from his contorted position on the couch. “Oh, finally. I thought I would die before you finished.”  
  
Viktor smiles coldly as he heads back to the kitchen for his own plate. “You could always help out, you know.”  
  
“What good would that do?” comes the remark, barely audible over the noise of Viktor moving cutlery around.  
  
Luckily, Viktor's hearing is good enough to catch it.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe make the food you so desperately seem to crave appear faster?”  Viktor looks down at Yuri and tilts his head to the left.  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t have to help if you actually did things instead of thinking of that stupid employee,” Yuri grumbles, sitting down at the table.  
  
“I wouldn’t think of Yuuri if you actually managed to hold my attention with your routine,” Viktor retorts, sitting down and beginning to calmly prepare himself a forkful of food.  
  
Any response Yuri might have made is completely drowned out by the enthusiasm with which he devours the food on his plate. Viktor knows it’s not the most gourmet meal Yuri’s ever eaten, but at least it’s well received.  
  
(Even if that reception is mostly driven by hunger and not by taste. Still, they say it’s the thought that counts, right?)  
  
Yuri breaks the silence with a demanding, “I know you’re old, but why do you have to eat so slowly?”  
  
Viktor finishes chewing. “We all can’t eat as quickly as you, Yura. Besides, you should know by now that eating quickly isn’t good for the b - ”  
  
“Yea, yea, I know. You’ve mentioned it like 400 times.” Yuri rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair. “Just hurry up already. I don’t want to be late.”  
  
“But kitten! Don’t you want to spend time with your aging coach? After all, this might be the last time you see him!” Viktor sing songs, finishing his food and settling lower in his chair.

Yuri’s reply is in the form of a scowl as he stands up abruptly and clears the table. “I’m doing my dishes and leaving.”

Moments later, there are aggressive movements in the kitchen, and then the water turns on. True to his word, Yuri has only cleared his part of the table, so, with a reluctant sigh, Viktor clears the rest off and deposits it next to Yuri, who reaches out, grabs the next plate and aggressively starts washing it.  
  
With an overly dramatic sigh, Viktor leans against the counter, arms braced in front of him and looking out the window at the last whisperings of dusk are overtaken by the inky night.  
  
“Yuri,” he says, breaking the silence they’ve fallen into, “do you think he’ll like me?”  
  
“You’re _still_ going on about this?”  
  
“He touched me! That must mean something!”  
  
“It means he was trying to get rid of you,” comes the deadpan reply as Yuri puts the newly cleaned dish onto the dish rack to dry before reaching out for the pot. “Stop overdramatising everything. You’re not Georgi.”  
  
The mention of Georgi brings an unfamiliar stab of some feeling into Viktor’s stomach. It doesn’t stay long, so he forces it from his mind, trying to focus on tonight’s lesson with Yuuri.  
  
“Don’t say that, Yuri! If he was trying to get rid of me, why would he offer lessons?!” He bends his arm upwards and brings his head to rest upon it.  
  
“To increase business. Seriously, how can you think there’s another reason?” Yuri snaps, his wet and soapy hand reaching out to grab the last pan from where it rests next to Viktor’s elbow. He brushes it as his hand passes, and the cold, wet feeling that starts to spread from his elbow is eerily reminiscent of the feeling currently spreading through Viktor’s gut.  
  
“Fine. How do I get him to like me though?” Viktor whines.  
  
Yuri puts the last plate away before turning off the water. “Why don’t you ask Mila or Georgi? You know. Someone who actually _cares_.”  
  
Viktor ponders this for a moment. Yuri has a point - he’s only fifteen, which means he does not have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. Chris would be an excellent consultant for his dilemma.  
  
“Anyway,” Yuri breaks the silence again. “I’m going. Don’t fuck up, you coward; I don’t want to have to move rinks because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”  
  
Viktor understands the sentiment.  
  
With a final point, Yuri slams the front door behind him as Viktor sets off to find his phone.  
  
Chris has some assisting to do.

* * *

~18:30~

 **You:** Chris, I need advice.

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** _typing…_ _  
_ **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** What did you do now? You know Yuri’s just angry. Being so far away from home probably doesn’t help.

 **You:** It’s not about Yuri.  
**You:** Okay well, it’s about A Yuuri, just not the kitten.  
**You:** And I might have signed up for figure skating lessons.

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Let me see what I can do to help, then.  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Wait, skating lessons?  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Why do you need lessons?

 **You:** _typing…_ _  
_ **You:** Beginner ones.  
**You:** Because Yuuri’s teaching!

 **❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** Oh, knudel...  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** If he’s got you signing up for beginner lessons, you’re probably going to be just fine.  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** The real question is how are you going to fake not being able to skate?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Vitya, what have you gotten yourself into? 
> 
> THANKS FOR READING! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Chapter two is half written so fingers crossed I can get it out soon! (Be advised that I am a slow updater so it might take a while, regardless of how far along in the chapter I am.) 
> 
> All figure skating info taken from here. I know nothing and don't claim to be a figure skater, so if you are one and see something that is wrong, please tell me :)  
> Yuri's cat's name (Chubak) taken from this story.  
> All nutrition information taken from [here](http://figureskating.about.com/od/figureskatingparents/qt/diet.htm).
> 
> Songs:  
> [Eternity](https://youtu.be/nOcrCRnH_qQ?t=9s) by Michael Bojesen (Yuri's FS)  
> [Elegy for the Arctic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOA8bzpW7FU) by Ludovico Einaudi (Yuri's SP)


	2. Reasons not to kiss him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stumbles through door 4 months late with chapter, sobbing*  
> Title taken from Natalie Wee's [ yes&no ](http://natalieweewrites.com/post/158531137072/reasons-to-not-kiss-him-1-you-werent-raised-to)  
> I made a few ninja-edits to the first chapter cause a lovely commenter told me that i was insane for having yuri skate every day! (Thank you!!!!) I've amended his practice routine here too.  
> Chapter unbeta'd atm cause it's late af and I wanted to publish this before I leave for home in about 10 hours.  
> Enjoy!

The two minute walk to the rink is accompanied with “what am I doing?!” going on repeat, over and over in Viktor’s head. Slung over his shoulder is his skating bag, on his head sits a black toque into which he tucks his hair, and painted on his lips is his brightest smile.  
  
Despite the confidence he knows he exudes, Viktor is incredibly worried.  
  
Chris brought up a valid point - how is he going to fake not being able to skate? He’s The Viktor Nikiforov - five time World Champion. He knows how to skate. Skating comes as naturally to him as breathing.  
  
This will be a challenge, to say the least.  
  
(Perhaps more of a challenge than defending his title.)  
  
He pauses right outside the door of the rink and takes a moment to compose himself. Around him, the last traces of colour have fled from the inky fingers of night, and the only sound is the crickets crooning sweet melodies softly in the background. As Viktor enters, he absently notes that the usual crowd of JJ fans have vanished, and that a small child and his mom are heading towards the exit, presumably going home after the day’s lesson.  
  
Behind the front desk lobby is a woman he’s never seen before. Her brown hair is tightly pinned up into a bun and she’s reaching up for the rental skates when Viktor stops at the desk.  
  
“Good evening!” Viktor chirps, “I’m here for a lesson!”  
  
“Just a moment please!” comes the faint reply.  
  
Which makes sense, as she’s facing the skates.  
  
When she comes out to the front, she pauses by a shelf that Viktor didn’t notice until she stops in front of it.  
  
“Is this your first lesson?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
_No.  
  
_ “Please fill these out and I’ll send you on to Yuuri,” she says.  
  
The papers she’s holding go down onto the desk in front of him and Viktor’s painted smile goes to waste as she refuses to look up at him.  
  
After Viktor signs his name with a flourish on all the papers, he hands them over to the lady - Yuuko, going by the name on her name tag - who takes them with a nod, barely glancing over at the name he’d scrawled in at the bottom of the page.  
  
(To be fair, his writing isn’t the greatest - it was a cause of consternation for all his teachers when growing up, because his Cyrillic is basically a series of loops. His English writing isn’t that much better, to be honest.)  
  
With a half hearted nod, she puts the pages away into a folder and waves Viktor on into the rink.

* * *

Viktor can hear Yuuri’s giggle as he steps through the doors.  
  
It’s a cute giggle, one he knows will be featured in most of his dreams from now on.  
  
He’s leaning against the rink barrier, left pick casually resting on the ice and phone in front of him. There’s a distorted laugh that barely reaches Viktor’s ears, almost getting lost in the tango that is Yuuri’s giggle still going around the rink.  
  
(And ringing through Viktor’s head.)  
  
Viktor considers sitting down to put his skates on, but then remembers Chris’ advice, based on the beginners he’d seen at his home rink.  
  
_“Remember, knudel, true beginners never even know how to put their own skates on.”  
  
_ “Hello! I’m your next student! I’m Vitya!” Viktor calls, deciding against putting on the skates and opting to call for Yuuri’s attention instead. He’s not sure why he goes by Vitya, but he does.  
  
Yuuri’s so startled, the phone in his hand visibly shakes and then there’s what sounds like a quick goodbye before he skates over, taking his glasses off as he goes, and gets off the ice.  
  
“Oh, hello again,” Yuuri says, and is that a blush lightly painting his cheeks?  
  
Or maybe Viktor’s just projecting.  
  
“I’m Yuuri Katsuki. I’ll be your instructor.” Yuuri’s introduction is accompanied with a handshake and when Viktor’s hand clasps Yuuri’s, he solemnly swears that he’s definitely never washing his hand now. How can he wash away the memory of Yuuri touching his hand  _twice_?

He meets Yuuri’s brown eyes and  _wow_ is it getting hot in here because those eyes are stunning and beautiful and Viktor thinks he forgot how to _breathe_.

He recovers quickly enough with a greeting before looking down at his still shoe clad feet.  
  
“Oh,” Yuuri says, “do you need help with those?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Viktor says, dropping to the bench and sticking out his right leg, boot and all.  
  
Yuuri kneels in front of him and clinically begins to remove Viktor’s boot, head down and hunched over the foot as if it’s some kind of puzzle that needs his full attention. He manages to wrestle the boot off after a brief struggle and then slides the skate on before starting to tie it up.  
  
“Let me know if it’s too tight or too loose. It’s important the skates be tight enough to support you but not so tight that you can’t move your toes,” Yuuri informs in a soft tone, “because if the skate is too loose there isn’t enough support when you land the jump.” He pauses in the tightening of Viktor’s laces and looks up with a soft smile. “It’s not like we’re going to be jumping on your first lesson, so don’t worry.”  
  
Viktor thinks that whatever expression his face has decided to wear looks like worry, which is better than the uncontrollable mess of emotions and thoughts that are currently racing through his head and increasing his heart rate.  
  
(When did he sink so low that he’s faking not being able to put on skates to spend time with Yuuri?)  
  
(Oh, right, when he decided to pay for beginner lessons.)  
  
After Yuuri ties the second skate, he squeezes Viktor’s ankle as he straightens up again. “Please be careful when you stand; the first time standing up on skates can be a bit diffic-”  
  
Yuuri’s voice trails off as Viktor launches himself to his feet with a smile.  
  
“Okay! Now what?”  
  
“Well, now we get you on the ice so you can skate,” Yuuri says as he helps Viktor towards the rink entrance.  
  
Viktor is herding onto the ice by a very gentle hand that Yuuri so thoughtfully rests right below his outstretched arms.  
  
(He’s trying to concentrate on Chris’ advice, but it’s hard when Yuuri’s arm, so solid and dependable, is waiting to catch him.)  
  
He stumbles a bit at that thought, and Yuuri’s hand is there, supporting him as he gets his feet back under him.  
  
Viktor thinks his heart stops for a moment.  
  
(But then he feels it thundering in his chest.)  
  
Somehow, they make it onto the ice. Yuuri steps onto it first and turns himself around to skate backwards. Viktor nearly forgets his beginner act and is about to step on when Yuuri stops him.  
  
“Now, before you get on, I want you to remember that you are going to fall and that you shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It’s your first time getting out onto the ice, so just take it nice and easy, okay?”  
  
Viktor hesitates with his leg suspended in mid air. He feels the blood rush out of his face as he realises something.

_I’m going to have to fall.  
  
_ Viktor Nikiforov does not fall on the ice. He simply doesn’t let himself fall. It’s not allowed. As the Russian National Hero, he cannot even be caught thinking about falling. He hasn’t fallen since he managed to land all his quads.  
  
That isn’t to say that he’s perfect, because he’s not and he still steps out of his jumps or misses the landings every so often.  
  
But he never falls when doing basics.  
  
Yuuri must interpret his hesitation as fear, because he skates closer to the entrance, hands outstretched. “Okay...Vitya, was it? Just hold onto my hands and step out onto the ice.”  
  
Viktor, seeing no other choice, grabs onto Yuuri’s soft hands as if they’re the only thing keeping him alive and steps out onto the ice, holding onto someone while skating for the first time in twenty years.  
  
The unusual feeling of being support while skating is...well, unusual.  
  
Yuuri’s holding Viktor’s hands and gently skates backwards as he pulls Viktor onto the ice. Viktor thinks he should probably try moving his feet a bit, just like he’s seen the beginners do back in Russia.  
  
“Okay, Vitya, you seem to have gotten your balance. I’m going to stop now and we’ll figure out where to go from there,” Yuuri says right before coming to a stop.  
  
Viktor _panics_ because what the _hell_ how is he supposed to pull off stopping like a beginner when he can’t act?  
  
So he does what he does best in circumstances like these - he flails.  
  
The moment Yuuri stops, he forces himself to fall.  
  
Since Yuuri’s hands are right under his, he takes Yuuri down with him as he crashes toward the ground.  
  
They land in a heap, Viktor on the bottom and Yuuri landing half on top of him, half on the ice.  
  
Viktor lies on the cold ice thinking that of course Yuuri would manage to get him on his back twice within their first three meetings.  
  
He feels that Yuri, in a strange way, would be proud. Disgusted, but proud.  
  
Or at least happy for him.  
  
(In his own, roundabout way.)  
  
“Ah!” Yuuri exclaims, “I’m sorry about that. Here, let me help you up.” He scrambles to his knees and Viktor lies on the ground and laughs sadly to himself about the fact that he had Yuuri sprawled on top of him and he couldn’t even get up the courage to do something as simple as hug him.

_Yuri’s right. I am a coward.  
  
_ “Oh, thank you, Mr Katsuki!” Viktor chirps as he pushes himself to a sitting position.  
  
“Please, call me Yuuri.” His face is faintly red and Viktor thinks it’s _adorable_ and that Yuuri should always be blushing because he is just that _damn beautiful_.  
  
“Okay, Yuuri!”  
  
Yuuri has gotten up and Viktor notes that his feet have fallen into ballet’s third position and geez, coaching has really taken over his life, hasn’t it?  
  
Before Viktor has hope to try and stop his mouth, he hears himself ask, “Do you do ballet, Yuuri?”  
  
Yuuri looks down at him blankly. “Pardon?”  
  
“You’re standing in third position, so I was wondering if that’s the ballet training or if…” Viktor trails off, not sure where he was going with that train of thought.  
  
“Um, I did ballet for many years, yes. I don’t do it much these days. How did you know?”  
  
_Crap, I can’t tell him my student does ballet in order to make sure he wins his Senior debut.  
  
_ “I teach...ballet! Yes, I’m a ballet teacher.” Viktor smiles up at Yuuri, whose confused face smooths out into a...strange smile.  
  
“I’m not sure if I can believe that, Vitya,” Yuuri begins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and Viktor feels his heart stop for a moment. “You’re not exactly the most graceful beginner on the ice.”  
  
Silence falls for a moment as Viktor’s brain processes what was just said to him.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry! T-that was a joke! I hope I didn’t offend you,” Yuuri begins but is cut off by Viktor’s laugh.  
  
“Haha! No, my Yuuri,” Viktor laughs. A small part of him screams in horror at the fact he’s just called Yuuri “his”, but he’s _Viktor Nikiforov_ and he didn’t get to become one of the top figure skaters in the world by dwelling on embarrassing moments like this. “No offence was taken! It was a wonderful joke.”  
  
Relief washes across Yuuri’s faintly blushing face like a wave. “Let’s get back to the lesson, shall we,” he asks, extending his hands out to Viktor.  
  
Yuuri then pulls him to his feet. It’s a task that Yuuri has obviously performed numerous times if the ease by which he pulls Viktor up is any indicator.  
  
He must have overestimated the amount of force needed for him to pull up someone bigger than him as Viktor is yanked off the ice right into Yuuri. This time, he takes advantage of the closeness and turns the awkward moment into a hug.  
  
As Viktor’s arms tighten around him, Yuuri goes as stiff as a board. The hug lasts a moment before Yuuri clears his throat and starts to squirm.  
  
Viktor panics and pulls away, a smile pasted firmly on his face. As he pulls back, hands sliding down Yuuri’s arms, he realises he made Yuuri blush red. He also might have been uncomfortable, based on the throat clearing.  
  
(Viktor’s slightly mad at himself for making Yuuri uncomfortable.)  
  
As they have yet to actually lose contact, Viktor simply adjusts his grip in Yuuri’s hands and decides to put the moment behind him.  
  
“I thought I would have more balance! Skating looks so easy,” he says, shooting Yuuri a flirty glance before continuing with, “especially the way you skate! It’s so smooth and graceful.”  
  
Yuuri’s face, still red from before, manages to flush an even deeper red.  
  
Viktor notices the tips of his ears are also blushing and his heart skips another few beats because no one should have the right to be that adorable.  
  
“Okay,” Yuuri says, clearly trying to regain control of lesson, “why don’t we keep skating and see how you do?”  
  
“Okay!” Viktor replies, sounding more enthusiastic than he feels.  
  
Yuuri pushes off, slowly skating backwards around the ice as Viktor lets himself be pulled along. The silence is peppered by words of encouragement from Yuuri, mostly along the lines of “good” and “that’s it” and “you can do it”. The smooth flow of the encouragements wrap around Viktor and he lets his mind drift along with his body, which is slowly picking up speed thanks to Yuuri’s pulling.  
  
Until Yuuri utters the fateful words Viktor doesn’t want to hear.  
  
“Right, now why don’t you start moving your feet?”  
  
It’s an innocent question, but, based on Viktor’s past experiences, it’s the innocent questions that somehow manage to always strike fear into the hearts of cowards.  
  
_“Beginners who truly want to learn are fearless and don’t care how ridiculous they look,”_ says Chris’ voice in his head.  
  
Throwing caution to the wind, Viktor smiles at Yuuri and starts skating at half the speed he normally would skate at.  
  
It’s smooth sailing for a bit, Yuuri guiding as Viktor wars with himself, stuck between matching Yuuri’s speed and going faster, until Yuuri breaks the glass of silence between them.  
  
“Wow! You’re really good! Are you sure this is your first time on the ice?” Yuuri’s looking down at their hands in visible shock, and Viktor’s insides turn cold, no matter how cheerful he seems on the outside.  
  
_Oh, no, if he finds out I’m not a beginner, what excuse do I have for being around him? Ah, think Viktor, think! What can you say to get out of this?_  
  
“Positive,” he exclaims with a smile. An idea forms in his head and he feels a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “But I think I might know the secret. Would you like to hear?”  
  
Yuuri meets his eyes in a silent answer, intrigued.  
  
“My parents loved to skate, so it must be a genetic thing!”  
  
Viktor watches with delight as intrigue turns to confusion and then to understanding as Yuuri gets the joke and giggles, shaking his head as they move around the rink.  
  
The lesson continues on with more basic techniques Viktor learned years ago but ‘learns’ again.  
  
If Yuuri notices that Viktor is nailing _every single move_ he’s shown, he makes no comment.  
  
Viktor works in a fall when Yuuri shows him how to snowplow stop, but is unable to pull Yuuri down again, much to his disappointment.  
  
He knows when the hour is up as Yuuri changes course and starts guiding them over to the rinkside door.  
  
“Well, our hour is up,” Yuuri says. “Next week I might have to give you more advanced stuff so that you don’t get too bored.”  
  
“I don’t think I’d be bored with you around,” Viktor flirts, not even trying to be subtle.  
  
The only reaction he gets is another blush dancing across Yuuri’s face and then being helped off the ice.  
  
“Same time and place next week, Vitya,” Yuuri reminds him as they sit down on the bench together.  
  
“It’s a date!” Viktor replies with a smile, before continuing with, “Can you help me take off my skates?”  
  
Yuuri shoots Viktor a confused look but agrees, putting guards on his skates before kneeling down in front of Viktor and taking hold of the offered leg. Similar to before, Yuuri’s moves are clinical, and within  
moments he’s untied the skate and pulled it off of Viktor’s foot. He repeats his ministrations on Viktor’s right foot, the entire process taking no more than two minutes.  
  
Viktor is trying to find the perfect wording to ask Yuuri out to dinner as he puts his shoes back on but they don’t come to him.  
  
Silently, Yuuri waits as Viktor gathers up his skating bag and puts his coat on.  
  
Viktor would break the silence, but his mind is still turning over and rejecting phrases that could be used to ask someone out because the wording has to be perfect. Yuuri deserves perfect wording so that he knows just how much Viktor likes him.  
  
The comfortable silence lasts the entire walk to the lobby before Yuuri breaks it.  
  
“Good night, Vitya,” he says before he walks away, a slight sway in his hips. He vanishes through a door marked “Employees Only” and Viktor stops and stares at the door for a few moments before continuing through the lobby.  
  
Right before he gets outside, he takes a deep breath, feeling the cool summer evening gusts rush past when he opens the door as dark and imposing clouds chase away the remaining bit of day.

_There’s a thunderstorm coming.  
_  
“You’ve sunk that low,” comes a voice Viktor wasn’t expecting to see at the rink at this time of night, belonging to his wayward student who most probably saw the last few exchanges between himself and Yuuri.  
  
“Yuratchka! How kind of you to come pick up your aging coach! You’re such a wonderful little student!” Viktor gushes, ruffling Yuri’s hair.  
  
The teen recoils, grumbling. “Why are you like this, old man?”  
  
Viktor laughs and slings an arm around Yuri as they start walking down the path toward home. “Don’t complain about things as trivial as this, Yuratchka! After all, I could be Yakov!”  
  
“Ugh, you’re so annoying. I would prefer Yakov,” Yuri mutters.  
  
Viktor notices that for all of Yuri’s complaints, he doesn’t seem to be trying to pull himself out of Viktor’s grip.  
  
He allows himself a small smile as they turn up their path to home.  
  
Behind them, back at the rink as he locks up, Yuuri laments to himself (and vows to later lament to Phichit) over the fact that his hot new adult student has a teenage son. It’s just his luck that all the people he gets crushes on are out of his reach.

* * *

The thunderstorm Viktor predicted hits about a half hour after they get home, announcing her arrival with a fantastical fanfare of a crash of thunder and an accompanying display of lightning. She howls and whips winds that make the trees outside creak and groan in protest and makes her general displeasure with everything very well known to all those who witness her wrath. Branches scrape against windows, breaking the peaceful silence and scaring Chubak and Makkachin into hiding under various furniture.  
  
Yuri’s been shut up in his room since they got in, and Viktor can only hope that he hasn’t died yet, as the room has been black and silent.

_Maybe he’s gone to sleep_ , comes the thought and Viktor sighs as he makes his way back to the kitchen.  
  
It’s the time of night where Viktor reviews the footage of the program skate throughs Yuri’s done throughout the day. This is normally done at the kitchen table with Makkachin sleeping soundly on the floor next to him and a mug of tea keeping his notepad company. Sometimes, Viktor tries to synchronize the video with the music to try and get the feel of what the program would look like when in competition, but other times, like tonight, he’s just too tired to try and do that. Instead, he relies on his own knowledge of the pieces to mark out where Yuri’s timing is off.  
  
Although he makes notes on where Yuri can improve while they’re at the rink, he likes to compare his rink notes with his video notes, as they offer two completely different perspectives on the same program.  
  
He’s just about to start on the second watch through of the video when he gets a Gmail alert in the top right corner of his screen. When he reads the sender and subject, he feels a cold wave of nerves wash over him. 

 

> International Skating Union  
>  Grand Prix Series Event Assignments - Yu..

Hesitantly, he clicks on the email.  
  
He reads:

> To: v-nikiforov@gmail.com  
>  From: do-not-reply@internationalskatingunion.org  
>  Subject: Grand Prix Series Event Assignments - Yuri Plisetsky

> _Dear Competitor,_
> 
> _We are happy to welcome you to the 2015-2016 skating season! Thank you for your interest in this season’s Grand Prix._
> 
> _We are pleased to announce you will be skating in the following events:_
> 
> _Event 2 - Skate Canada, in Mississauga, Canada  
>  _ _From Friday, October 30 to Sunday, November 1, 2015_
> 
> _Event 6 - Rostelecom Cup, in Moscow, Russia  
>  _ _From Friday, November 20 to Sunday, November 22, 2015_
> 
> _The full list of competitors is attached. We look forward to seeing you at your event!_
> 
> _Best of luck practicing!_
> 
> _Alexander Lakernik  
>  _ _2nd Vice President - Figure Skating_

> _Grand-Prix-Event-and-Competitor-Information-2015.pdf_   
>  _Progressive-Skate-America-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_   
>  _Skate-Canada-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_   
>  _Audi-Cup-of-China-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_   
>  _NHK-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_   
>  _Trophee-de-France-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_   
>  _Rostelecom-Cup-GP-Announcement-2015.pdf_

He stares at the email for a few moments before rocketing out of his chair, eliciting a startled whine out of Makkachin.  
  
“Sorry, Makka,” Viktor throws over his shoulder as he barrels towards Yuri’s room.  
  
He tries to burst through the door dramatically when he gets there, but Yuri has locked it.  
  
“Yuri,” he calls, pounding on the door with a fist, “Yuri!”  
  
He knocks a few more times until finally the door opens a crack and he’s looking down into his pajama-clad student’s disgruntled face.  
  
“What,” Yuri snaps, voice thick with sleep, “is so important that you had to wake me up.”  
  
“The assignments are out.”  
  
Outside, the wind howls, shaking the house as it passes by.  
  
Yuri’s face instantly changes from one of resentment and anger to one of understanding. “Where am I? Where am I skating?”  
  
“Skate Canada and the Rostelecom Cup.” Viktor replies.  
  
Yuri draws back from the door for a moment, nearly shutting it on Viktor. A minute later, he flings it back open and strides out of the room, bathrobe billowing behind him as he heads for the kitchen.  
  
Viktor’s protests die in his throat before they even have a chance to form.  
  
“You have four weeks between Skate Canada and the Rostelecom Cup.” Viktor says, trailing after Yuri.  
  
There are so many things he wants to say but he knows most of them will be dismissed.  
  
“Which rinks are they held in?” Yuri demands, pulling Viktor out of his thoughts.  
  
“I haven’t opened the attached information,” Viktor replies, shooing Yuri out of the way so he can get back to the email.  
  
The moment Viktor is seated, Yuri is hovering by Viktor’s shoulder.  
  
He opens the first attachment up and they’re greeted with the ISU cover page, lists of the ISU executives, a word from the president, and the table of contents.  
  
“Geez,” Yuri mutters, “why can’t they just cut the crap? They know none of us care about this.”  
  
Clicking on the hyperlink to the Skate Canada event, the document scrolls down to the first page of the event, which provides the dates and location.  
  
“We have easy access to this rink, Yura. I’ll get you out there for a few practice sessions so you can get acquainted with the ice.” Viktor says, starting to plan how they’re going to get there and when to go when he notices the event rink is in the next city over.  
  
Yuri makes no noise of assent, but the pleased air coming off of him is answer enough for Viktor.  
  
He scrolls to the next page of the event, which provides the list of competitors as well as the times of each events.

> List of competitors for the Skate Canada 2015 event:  
>  1 Patrick CHAN                           CAN  
>  2 Jean-Jacques LEROY                 CAN  
>  3 Cao BIN                                    CHN  
>  4 Emil NEKOLA                            CZE  
>  5 Yuri PLISETSKY                         RUS  
>  6 Adam RIPPON                          USA

“You’re fifth,” Viktor says, highlighting Yuri’s name when he finds it. “Oh, it looks lik-”  
  
“JJ’s skating at the same event. Damn,” Yuri curses, voice barely louder than a whisper. “I spend enough time with him at the damn rink, why do I have to see him in competition too?”  
  
The third page marks the start of the skater profiles and the spot where Viktor stops reading, even though he wants to continue.  
  
“Go to the Rostelecom Cup,” Yuri demands.  
  
Viktor obliges.  
  
Thunder crashes outside as if the summer storm wants to remind Yuri and Viktor that she’s there. Rain starts beating against the window, picking up the tempo as if trying to warn against something foreboding.  
  
The first page of the Rostelecom Cup provides the dates and location, just like the Skate Canada one did.  
  
“Again, there’s no order of skaters,” Viktor comments as he scrolls to the second page, “because it’s-”  
  
“Determined on the number of points you get at the previous competitions. I’m not stupid. I watched you, Georgi, and Mila at the Grand Prix last year, remember, geezer? Or is your memory falling out with your hair?”  
  
The lights flicker as Yuri pulls up a chair next to Viktor, who doesn’t take the insult personally because it’s just gone midnight and normally Yuri is long asleep as he has to get up at four for his morning run.  
  
“They have a list of skaters, though,” he says in lieu of responding with an actual retort because he’s tired and doesn’t want to engage in verbal warfare at midnight.  
  
(Or maybe he’s just trying to be the better person for once in his life.)

“Well, can’t you scroll any faster? I want to see them before I die,” Yuri snaps and Viktor resists the urge to slow down his scrolling, telling himself that the faster he scrolls, the faster the clearly exhausted Yuri can back to sleep.  
  
The lights flicker again.

> List of competitors in the Rostelecom Cup 2015  
>  1 Jean-Jacques LEROY                CAN  
>  2 Cao BIN                                   CHN  
>  3 Emil NEKOLA                           CZE  
>  4 Michele CRISIPINO                   ITA  
>  5 Sueng-gil LEE                          KOR  
>  6 Yuri PLISETKSY                        RUS

 “This is just brilliant,” Yuri growls when Viktor reads out the first name. “JJ in both qualifiers. And the Final. And at the rink. Where’s the cup held?”  
  
“Ice Palace ‘Megasport’.”  
  
“Good. I’ve skated there before. I have the advantage.” Yuri comments in a voice made of steel.  
  
There’s a crash of thunder and the lights go out.  
  
Illuminated only by the light of a laptop, dark shadows dance around them in the kitchen. A branch drags itself across the window screen, screeching as it goes. Raindrops patter, steady like the sound of soldiers marching forward; always moving; methodical; military-like.  
  
Viktor is about to close his laptop and send Yuri to bed when the teen breaks the silence with a voice holding the rage of a thousands bulls and the fiery determination of ten thousand revolutionaries.

“I’m going to crush him.”

* * *

There’s still no power when Yuri wakes up.  
  
Viktor wouldn’t normally care about what Yuri does when he wakes up, but the fact that there’s no power is something that is apparently _Viktor’s_ fault, as Yuri bursts into his room screaming about no power and “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GO FOR A RUN IF THERE’S NO POWER?”  
  
Viktor lifts his head from under the pillow and tries to figure out how running and no power are related.  
  
“Go for your run, Yuri,” he says as he goes back to hiding under his pillow.  
  
“Didn’t you hear me, dumbass? There’s no power. I could get _killed_ if some idiot driving a car doesn’t see me because _there’s no lights_ and the sun _still hasn’t risen._ ” Yuri snarls.  
  
“Take a flashlight, Yura,” he replies, “or do you not want to win?”  
  
He thinks his muffled and sleep filled voice is not the best suited voice to make that threat, but he does it anyway.  
  
“Yea, well, what do you know anyway,” Yuri mutters, voice getting fainter as he leaves the room. “You’re taking beginner lessons.”  
  
Viktor rolls his eyes and buries deeper into his blankets.  
  
The front door slams a moment later.

* * *

The announcement of the event assignments seems to fan the flames of Yuri’s determination even more. The teen works himself even harder, somehow managing to amp up his training regime, making it even more strenuous and is constantly singing his programmes.  
  
Viktor, sensing the change of heart, works just as hard as Yuri does, losing countless hours of sleep as he pours over the video he takes and notes he makes, trying to be as nitpicky as possible and cut down on any errors that might cause serious trouble for them in the future.  
  
Tensions, surprisingly, don’t run high both on and off the ice. Yuri, physically stressed due to his self imposed fitness regime and mental stress at needing to succeed, snaps a bit faster at JJ these days, but Viktor figures he can forgive that.

The only reprieve Viktor has from the cloud of stress that seems to constantly hang around is his weekly lesson with Yuuri.

* * *

“Okay so just ensure that you - no!”  
  
Viktor is, once again, back on the ice with Yuuri.  
  
(Quite literally - Yuuri’s half said sentence had been cut off when he realised Viktor was barrelling straight toward him, unable to stop, resulting in yet another awkward position on the ice.)  
  
This week, Yuuri decided to make things more “challenging” and teach Viktor how to stop.  
  
The only challenging thing about this, for Viktor, is trying to fake being bad at it.  
  
“So,” Yuuri says when they pick themselves up, “the important thing to remember with the T stop is to keep those feet at a 45° angle! Just turn the lagging foot and then lean back on it until you stop.”  
  
And then, as if the universe is trying to drive home the fact that Viktor is in a hell specially created for him, Yuuri demonstrates the easiest stop in the world.  
  
(And Viktor’s heart rate goes through the roof, just watching the way this beautiful man controls his body. And how stunning that ass looks in those leg-)  
  
“Now you try. Just skate toward me,” Yuuri calls, from the halfway point on the rink.  
  
“As long as you promise you’ll catch me,” Viktor flirts, throwing in a wink just to watch Yuuri’s blush slowly spread from his nose.  
  
“Focus on the skating, please,” Yuuri stammers, face a flame.  
  
“I thought we were stopping,” Viktor says, pushing off, “but if you want me to skate into you -”  
  
Yuuri laughs, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to end up on the ice again.”  
  
Viktor glides across the ice, trying frantically to recall how a beginner would try to learn how to stop. Chris hadn’t dropped any good points for learning how to stop, so he's on his own.  
  
An enthusiastic “Good job!” startles him out of his thoughts. With a blink, Viktor finds himself in a perfect T stop in front of Yuuri, feet angled to the exact degree.  
  
“What did you say you do again?” Yuuri asks, proud smile on his face. His lips look so soft and Viktor absently wonders what they would feel like against his own.  
  
Viktor’s mind blanks. “Uh…. I’m an astrophysicist.”  
  
Yuuri blinks. “Wow!”  
  
“It’s why I’m so good at the 45° angle!”  
  
Yuuri laughs and Viktor feels his heart grow three sizes larger at the sound, and he feels his smile get so big that it threatens to rip his face in half.  
  
“Right,” Yuuri says, still giggling a little bit. “Let’s move on to using the ice pick…”

* * *

When practice ends shortly after Yuuri demonstrates using the ice pick to push off, Viktor feels as if nothing can faze him anymore.  
  
He’s getting to know the cute instructor, his student is going to be well prepared for his senior debut…  
  
It’s safe to say that he’s walking with a spring in his step and his head in the clouds when he waves good night to Yuuko, who’s behind the welcoming desk, shutting it down for the night.  
  
Not even seeing Yuri lurking by the exit can bring him out of his good mood.  
  
“Yuratchka! My darling!” Viktor calls, pulling his student out of his contemplative state.  
  
Before Yuri can react, Viktor has wrapped him in a hug.  
  
A full, over the top, dramatic hug, complete with hair ruffling and suffocation. Yuri shows his thanks for the hug with muffled protesting the entire time.  
  
Eventually, he manages to push Viktor away. “Ugh, why are you like this,” he grumbles, turning to head out the main door.  
  
Viktor catches up and slings his arm over Yuri’s shoulders. “Just for you, Yura. Just for you.”  
  
Behind the counter, Yuuri’s phone chimes with a text.

**Phichit C:** and?

**You:** The teen was there again.

**Phichit C:** it’s always possible that he could be a single hot dad?

**You:** _typing..._  
**You:** No one this attractive can have a teenager and be single.  
**You:** It just *doesn’t* happen

* * *

Much like the rest of Viktor’s cyclical form of existence, this routine soon incorporates itself into his life.  
  
Seeing that Yuri’s stress and determination has reached an all time high, Viktor implements two mandatory rest days for Yuri, giving himself a bit of a break as well.  
  
Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays are spent keeping Yuri in shape with dry land training and working out during the day. At night, Yuri goes to Lilia’s studio to practice, and on Wednesdays, he reluctantly meets Viktor at the ice rink after his lesson.  
  
Tuesdays and Saturdays are reserved for on ice review and polishing of the programs. Viktor’s videography skills have never been better, and his dodging skills have been honed to a science as he is constantly skating out of the way of the force that is Yuri in the middle of a program.  
  
Yuri puts a giant calendar up on the wall and marks off each day with a giant “x” every day after practice, or when he gets home from his day off walk to the park with Makkachin or from the studio.  
  
Viktor’s weeks become a whirlwind of the rink, the training room, and the kitchen table with his laptop.  
  
His lessons with Yuuri continue to be barely passable successes, and he’s pretty sure that he keeps changing the profession he’s in because he can’t remember what he says from one week to the next.  
  
After the second week where he manages to get Yuuri to laugh, Viktor makes it his goal to get a laugh and a blush from him at least once a week. This gets increasingly more difficult as his attention is split between trying to fake being a beginner on skates who’s getting more “advanced” skating techniques and being distracted by Yuuri’s … existence.  
  
Viktor would be perfectly content to this life, watching Yuri’s determination grow to the point that the only soundtrack in their house are his skating pieces and getting to watch Yuuri’s blushes grow redder with every passing week and bad line.

* * *

**You:** It’s official.  
**You:** I’m marrying him.

~22:26~

**You:** He’s just so perfect  
**You:** I’ve never met anyone like him

~00:08~

**You:** I love him so much  
**You:** _You sent a picture_

~03:22~

**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**  Have you even spoken to him outside of skating?  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** It’s hard to marry someone who you know nothing about.  
****❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**** Another excellent pouting face. You're truly mastering this, knudel

~05:30~

**You:** I know a lot about him!

  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**   _typing…_  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**  Get over those nerves and ask him out on a date.  
**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:**  Trust me, it’ll help you in the long run.

**You:** _typing…_

**❤️️ SEXXY BOY ❤️️:** You *might* want to tell him about the fact that you can skate, though.

* * *

The next day they go to the rink for on ice training, the welcome desk is empty. It’s not unusual, but the sign in binder is also gone.  
  
“If that asshole stole the binder again, I swear-”  
  
“Now now, Yuri, you know it was just an accident last time. Besides, we got it back in the end!”  
  
Yuri doesn’t look appeased by this thought as he harrumphs and crosses his arms in front of himself with a scowl.  
  
Viktor glances around the desk - sometimes, as Yuuko closes up for the night, she puts the binder right under the counter. He knows this because he’s seen her do it, so he takes a gamble and leans over the desk to see if he can find the familiar dark blue binder, but has no luck. With a hum, he twirls back towards Yuri, arms crossed over his chest and one hand tapping a rhythm against his lip.  
  
“I’ll check the rink. You stay here and scream if Takeshi shows up with the binder.”  
  
Yuri seems like he wants to argue it, but he shuts his mouth with an audible snap and nods sullenly.  
  
The rink, Viktor discovers when he walks through the sliding doors, is empty. JJ doesn’t seem like he’s gotten onto the rink yet because the ice is smooth, but a bag is resting on the benches, which means he’s in the building.  
  
Viktor continues further into the rink, breathing in the deep smell of home - home smells like artificial ice and brings back memories of early mornings before school with Yakov yelling at him to “LIFT YOUR LEG HIGHER IN YOUR SIT SPINS!”  
  
He finds JJ in the locker room.  
  
“Oh, hey! It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other!” JJ exclaims, when he sees Viktor.  
  
Viktor replies with a noncommittal hum and asks him if he’s seen the sign in binder.  
  
“Didn’t see it when I got in,” JJ replies, and takes off his Team Canada jacket. “If you do manage to find it, let me know, eh? I still gotta sign in!”  
  
And then he walks out, lightly punching Viktor in the shoulder as he goes.  
  
Viktor heads back toward the front of the rink, thinking that maybe Takeshi has shown up and that Yuri just neglected to let him know.  
  
When he gets back out to the front, Yuri is leaning with his back against the desk, engrossed in his phone. Behind the desk stands the petite woman from when he comes for his night classes, and right next to him is the sign in binder.  
  
“Good morning,” she says when Viktor’s shadow falls over the page as he bends over to sign in with his usual “Vitya <3” under Yuri's "yurt", “I hope your evening was -”  
  
Her voice gets caught in her throat when she looks up at him. “You’re - you - you’re Viktor.. Nikiforov,” she chokes out. Then she mutters, sounding very shell shocked, “Oh my god. Viktor Nikiforov is standing in my rink.” Her voice fades out and Viktor thinks he hears something about the little shit not telling her Viktor Nikiforov was training at their rink, but he smiles and extends a hand.  
  
“Yes! I’m Viktor Nikiforov! And you are?”  
  
“Nishigori… Yuuko,” she gasps out, and when Viktor extends a hand out to shake hers, it’s clammy and her breath catches in her throat.  
  
“Pleasure,” he says, all media smile and charming personality. “I wish we could spend some more time talking but my student here, Yuri Plisetsky, is preparing for his first Senior GP! We should go focus on training for his first senior competition. He’s using my choreography!”  
  
He lets go of her hand and turns, draping his arm across Yuri’s shoulder. “Go get ready, you’re starting with a warm up and then going straight into your skate review.”  
  
Yuri peels himself away from his phone and pushes off from the desk with a glare before stalking off to go put his skates on.  
  
“Oh,” Viktor calls after him, “when you see JJ, tell him to come sign in!”  
  
Yuri flips him off while continuing to walk away. “Why don’t you go do it yourself, beginner? Not like you can do anything else.”  
  
Viktor sees Yuuko’s shell shocked expression from the corner of his eye, and turns. “He’s just kidding, ha ha! I’m not really a beginner!”  
  
Confusion darts across Yuuko’s face and Viktor decides to hightail it out of there before she can ask any questions. “Don’t forget to watch out for Yuri Plisetsky at the Grand Prix!” He throws over his shoulder as he hurries off into the rink, nearly crashing into JJ, who’s on his way out.  
  
“Whop! My bad! Sorry about that, eh!” JJ says, patting Viktor on the shoulder _again_ as he passes.  
  
When Viktor gets to the rink, Yuri’s already on the ice, lazily skating laps. He doesn’t seem to notice Viktor, as he switches from forward skating to backwards skating when he passes where Viktor is standing.  
  
“Don’t forget to do the crossovers!” Viktor calls before settling down on a bench to lace up his skates.  
  
By the time he gets onto the ice, JJ has returned and has joined Yuri in doing laps around the rink.  
  
Viktor steps onto the ice as Yuri skates to a stop in front of him. “Let’s polish your triple loop polished - if you can get that nailed, you can apply that technique to the rest of your triples.”  
  
Yuri scowls. “I know. I’m not a beginner, like some.”  
  
He skates to the middle of the ice and starts collecting speed to launch into his triple loop jump. In the meantime, JJ skates to a stop near Viktor.  
  
“Ha!” JJ crows as Yuri lands and skates to a stop, looking at Viktor for comment on the jump. “Is that how you’ve been training him?” He pauses, and then loudly exclaims, “He won’t win against me!”  
  
Viktor can see Yuri becoming outraged but before he can even do anything, the boy has already snapped, “If you think you’re so good, why don’t you try teaching me better, huh?”  
  
“I wouldn’t want to embarrass the World Champion when I end up being the better teacher,” JJ replies, smug.  
  
Viktor decides to go for a diplomatic answer, forcing his annoyance down and putting on his press voice. “The better teacher is one who is able to adapt their methods to their student.”  
  
JJ shrugs, unbothered. “That sounds to me like you’re not up for a friendly competition. Or are you afraid that the last couple of months you’ve had off to train have made you lose some skill?”  
  
Viktor bristles. “I fear your ego would be too thrown off to skate well,” he replies, fighting to keep his voice calm and steady, before turning away from the boards and back to Yuri.  
  
“Challenge accepted!” JJ sings. “We’ll each skate a program and the person with the loudest applause wins.”  
  
“That’s just stupi-”  
  
“That’s fine,” Viktor comments, cutting Yuri off.  
  
“What?! Are you stupid?! This guy has two people to cheer for him! You need to get some impartial people in here!” Yuri hisses under his breath.  
  
“Why?” JJ asks. “If we’re trying to prove who’d be the better teacher, isn’t the only person we need to impress you?”  
  
Yuri looks back, shocked by the logic.  
  
JJ skates to the middle of the ice and then begins his routine. It’s possible that this is the one he’s planning on skating to in the Grand Prix series, as it seems familiar to him and it looks like one that Viktor has seen a few times in passing.  
  
Overall, the program has a long way to go. It’s still rough and there’s a lot of emotion missing from the skate. JJ still has a tendency to stay stuck in his previous mistakes and not plow on, something that the judges will not find appealing. His step sequences could also use improvement, Viktor notes idly as JJ skates by, but his jumps are powerful.  
  
JJ finishes with a smug smile, issuing a silent challenge that Viktor is all too happy to accept.  
  
He skates to the centre of rink and takes a deep breath before losing himself in his old free skate routine from the last year. The movements come naturally; he twists into the twizzles before moving into a basic camel spin and moving through his jumps.  
  
The rest of the dance elements blur amongst themselves and suddenly, he finds himself at the end of it.  
  
He finishes, and wants to double over and put his head between his knees to get some air back because wow he is more out of shape than he thought. But when he sees Yuri’s face twitching to keep from breaking into a smile for the first time in days, Viktor feels his heart lighten and forgets about his lack of air as he grins in excitement and skates over to his student and ruffles his hair.  
  
What he doesn’t see is Yuuko glancing over the signature he scrawled onto the sign in sheet and then further examining it, before putting pieces together with a startled “Oh!” then going to find Yuuri in the locker room, her pace approaching a quick run.  
  
“Yuuri!”  
  
At his name, Yuuri looks up from mopping the floor. “Yes?”

“There’s something I think you should see,” Yuuko pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dUUUUUUUUUH  
> i wonder what's gonna happen next?! ;)
> 
> Okay I was originally going to put this in the top notes but I thought you might be over eager to read the next chapter....  
> So here's where I put what's happened to me since we last chatted.  
> I posted the first chapter when this chapter was half done, thinking "well i'm 5k in, it can't take me that long to finish the rest"  
> This was June.  
> Then, work comes and goes "oh hey btw how do you feel about pulling 55 hour weeks? thanks!" and basically I came home and fell asleep.  
> "okay," I thought to myself, "I'll have more time when I get back to school! It's fine."  
> I went back to school.  
> Now, for disclaimer, i'm a STEM major. STEM majors like to have a lot of labs. This STEM major had weekly spectroscopy labs and prelabs due, starting September 11 till December 3. Also, I'm clearly insane because I took on a stage manging/tech director position with a theatre company, worked 10 hours a week as part of my summer job (it's a branch off) and then decided that since my life wasn't hectic enough, I could TOTALLY join a pit orchestra for a musical at a high school during finals.  
> good job, me.  
> Needless to say, I ended up... not writing. But! During finals week, which just finished like 4 hours ago for me (it was 267 hours of hell rip) I got stuff done! So here you go.
> 
> Now that you know my sob story, we can focus on the good stuff.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!  
> Again, any inconsistencies are my own. Please call me out if something is drastically wrong!  
> As always, comments and feed back much appreciated! They give me life!!! (literally)  
> All the ISU info (ie - Viktor's email) was taken from the ISU website. Yes, that is actually what they call their program things. I would tell you to check it out but apparently since April 9th to today (December 21) they've actually taken down the sites! Well that's awkward... 
> 
> You'll also notice the addition of a chapter count!! This is because I've finally figured out how the rest of the fic would break down compared to the giant outline that's been sitting open on gdocs since 2 am on Dec 31, 2016. Next will be the last chapter, with an epilogue. 
> 
> Ideally, the next parts shouldn't take long to update at all, BUT we've clearly seen that I take on way too much so that's going to be something that will not happen.  
> Thanks again for reading, and all the best to you and yours for a great new year! May 2018 bring you love, joy, happiness, prosperity, and lots and lots of health!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, if you made it this far!!
> 
> Huge thanks to [Opal](http://opalescentgold.tumblr.com) and [Jody](http://boredpsycopath-jc.tumblr.com) for the screaming sessions, cheerleading, beta reads, characterisation reassurances, and being all around lovely people. :D
> 
> Also to [somedrunkpirate](http://somedrunkpirate.tumblr.com) for letting me scream at her over Skype one day as I made dinner because I have no clue what I'm doing.
> 
> I always love hearing from you, so drop a comment or come scream at me!  
> [tumblr](http://pigfarts23.tumblr.com)  
> [personal tumblr](http://therealpigfarts23.tumblr.com)  
> 


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